


Beetlejuice (the fic, the fic, the fic)

by Dale (Bouncyballblue)



Category: Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: 2 months later, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Funny, Hurt/Comfort, No Smut, light-hearted and funny, not beetlebabes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bouncyballblue/pseuds/Dale
Summary: It's been two months since the events of the musical. Lydia is already having a tough week when suddenly Beetlejuice shows up in the middle of the night, yelling angrily that she summoned him in her sleep. Oops. Is this going to be a regular thing?(Co-written with Salsawrites)
Relationships: Adam Maitland & Barbara Maitland, Beetlejuice and his clones - probably, Charles Deetz & Delia Deetz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	1. Back in Black (and white)

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate titles include:  
> "Beetlejuice 2: Electric Boogaloo"  
> "That was a _somniloquy,_ so you're the one who's being rude"

(Dale)

It's storming outside again. Normally Lydia loves inclement weather; it reminds her of the times she and her mom had to run to escape a surprise rain shower, and of the times they ran outside on purpose to splash barefoot in puddles and save worms trapped on the sidewalks. But tonight, Lydia wishes it would stop. The day has already had enough drama in it. Some assholes picked a fight with her at school and when she stood up for herself, she got a week's suspension for absolutely no reason. Her dad said he was "disappointed" with her "distinct lack of conduct," and the ghost parents, who she thought would understand, sided with him. The brief discussion that followed had been... passionate, and concluded with Lydia running to her room and slamming the door as loud as she could.

Now the young Ms. Deetz just wants to sleep, but the universe seems intent on denying her the welcome escape of unconsciousness. She lies in the dark, listening to the thunderclaps outside her bedroom window, imagining poetic metaphors between the chaos of her mind and the tumultuous sky. 

It's just past 3am when Lydia is woken up by a loud, unmistakably-gruff voice she wasn't sure she'd ever hear again.

"….admit that I didn't see this coming. It's only been like two damn months. Why the hell would- hey! Lyds, you asleep??" 

It's a moonless night, and Lydia's room is completely dark. She whispers into the blackness, "Beetlejuice, what are you doing here??"

The blackness responds less quietly. "You tell me; I'm a demon not a mind reader. Why the shit did you summon me in the middle of the night?!"

Lydia reaches for the lamp on her side table and flicks the switch. It's not very bright but it's enough to confirm that Beetlejuice really is standing in front of her and she's not just hearing voices. The demon is back in his familiar black and white suit, though it looks dirtier than before, if that's even possible. It's hard to make out what color his hair is in the dim light, but she's pretty sure it's not the happy green she remembers from the good times they had together. Beetlejuice’s arms are crossed over his chest as he stares impatiently at Lydia.

"What are you talking about? I didn't summon you," she says, sitting up.

His scowl deepens and he growls, "Cut it out, kid. I'm not in the mood for jokes. You already interrupted a perfectly good game of cards I had going with some of the baddest dead mobsters in the Netherworld. Now I'm never gonna win back my autographed picture of David Hasselhoff in that beach show I forget the name of." At Lydia's confused expression he waves a hand dismissively. "Anyway, my point is- just get to the point so I can leave." 

"Beej." The nickname feels surprisingly natural considering that the last time Lydia said it was less than a minute before killing its owner. In a weird way, she still thinks of Beetlejuice as a friend, even after everything that happened. "I literally have no idea why you're here. I swear, I didn't summon you." She looks at him with the most serious, look-me-in-the-eyes expression she can muster.

For a moment it looks like Beetlejuice might not believe her, but then he sighs and unfolds his arms, face returning to a less extreme level of irritation. He drops into the chair next to Lydia's desk and leans back, staring at the ceiling. "Look, Lydia; I'm not calling you a liar but I know for a _fact_ that you said my name three times. Maybe you said it in your sleep?"

Lydia tries to remember what she had been dreaming about right before Beetlejuice showed up. All she recalls is something about a bottle of black nail polish and a strong sense of …loss? Indigestion? "Maybe," she says. "Mom said I talked in my sleep sometimes."

Beetlejuice responds with a noncommittal grunt. After a few seconds of silence, Lydia speaks. "Sooooo… what've you been up t-"

"Oh, you know, demon stuff," he interrupts. He stands up and inspects a bare wrist. "Wow, would look at the time! I'm supposed to be having a date with some hot dead actresses."

Lydia frowns. "I thought you were playing poker."

Beetlejuice scratches the back of his neck. "Uh…well, yeah! I was! That's where I'm taking them on a date! Uh...smell ya later, alligator?" There's a tiny puff of smoke and the room is once again sans demon. 

It takes Lydia an hour to get back to sleep. She'll be tired tomorrow but it's not like she has school to go to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beetlejuice Hair Colors:  
> Green - standard, happy (more color = happier)  
> Red - angy (obviously)  
> Blue - concerned/worried about someone else/platonic affection  
> Yellow - distressed  
> Purple - sad/lonely  
> White - scared  
> Black - grief?  
> Pink - ….lust? romance? Seeing something cute?


	2. Honestly, the Homework is the Real Victim Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Chapter Titles:  
> "Beetlejuice vs. The World"  
> "Sleep-Summoning 2: Electric Boogaloo" (yeah that's right, I used the joke twice)  
> "You 'bout to get ghost-smacked, son"

(Dale) _(Salsa)  
  
_  
  
  
Lydia makes it halfway through her suspension before Beetlejuice shows up again. She wakes to the sound of a loud demon and paper crunching as he inadvertently lands on the homework she left on the rug.

"The FUCK, Lyds?! Again? Seriously??" he shouts.

_ Startled at the sudden yelling, Lydia bolts upright in her bed. She grinds her palms against her eyes in some effort to ward off the remnants of sleep before interjecting, "Wh-what the hell? Beej, I don't know what you're talking about - you said it yourself last time, maybe I talk in my sleep. I can't help it." Lydia grumbles and scrambles around for her phone, turning on the flashlight. "Y'know while you're here you could stand somewhere else... some of those papers are due in soon," she half-jokes with the harsh light of her phone pointing right at the demon's face. _

Beetlejuice waves his hand through the light, as though trying to swat away a fly. "Would you knock that off?! The hell do you need a light for; you know it's me!"

_ "Well yeah, you woke me up," she retorts, switching her phone light off and opting instead for the softer glow of the bedside lamp. Lydia manages to give Beetlejuice an indignant glare as her eyes adjust to the room. "Look, whatever happened, I didn't mean to summon you again. What more do you want? I didn't do it on purpose." _

"Yeah, I can see that," he scoffs, arms folding over his chest. "It's pretty obvious you didn't force me to appear here for the pleasure of my company." He kicks idly at the papers on the floor. "I've been around for literally hundreds of years and no one's ever summoned me just for a 'hang out sesh.'"   
His tone is sardonic, but in the dim light Lydia thinks she sees some purple creep into the demon's hair. 

_ Lydia swings her legs to the side of the bed and relents with a long sigh, realising what she'd said in the midst of this rude awakening actually might have upset him.  _

_ "Hey come on, I didn't mean it like that. I... honestly thought I'd ruined your night or something. Let me think, last time it was poker and a hot date? You sounded real busy." There's a slightly softer tone in Lydia's voice as she backpedals. "Even if it was an accident, it's still nice to see you, y'know? I have friends at school but I never really 'hang out' with them... and I'm probably not gonna be able to fall back asleep tonight so..." Lydia smiles. "hang out sesh it is?" _

Her response catches Beetlejuice off guard. "I…" he starts to say, but is interrupted by a heavy knock on the door and the agitated voice of Mr. Charles Deetz.

"Lydia? What's going on?? Are you alright?? Delia says I need to respect your personal space so I'm asking instead of barging in, but I would very much like to!"

_ She starts at hearing her father's voice and mutters a 'fuck' under her breath. Lydia had mostly forgotten she lives with other people during her short exchange with Beetlejuice. Composing herself, she gives the demon a sideways glance that hopefully gets the silent apology across.  
"Um, I'm fine, Dad! Why?" she calls out unsurely to the bedroom door. _

"Yeah, Chuck! Your timing  _ sucks _ ; we were having a moment!" Beetlejuice shouts at the door. 

"Lydia, is that... is that the demon with the green hair?!" 

Beetlejuice looks up, apparently trying to check. "Well it's probably not green right now, but-"

_ As soon as Beetlejuice opens his mouth the amount of explaining she has to do increases tenfold. She could have easily excused her late night disturbance away by pinning it on a nightmare; something way less complicated than 'Hey Dad! I accidentally summoned a demon at 3am - it'll never happen again, I promise!' _

_ "He's not causing any trouble, Dad! Oh my god," Lydia groans, firmly planting her head in her hands. There isn't anything else she can say to make the situation look better than it is, so she doesn't try to. _

"Lydia, he... I… I am not comfortable with this situation! Please let me in!" Charles stammers, adding a few more completely unnecessary knocks for emphasis.

"Yeah, well join the uncomfortable club, pal!" Beetlejuice snaps. 

_ Before forcing herself off the bed, Lydia adds her father's incessant knocking to her things-to-be-annoyed-at-tonight list. "Nobody is comfortable with this situation, Dad! I summoned him accidentally, but that doesn't mean I'm just gonna send him away," she states firmly. Seeing those streaks of purple in the demon's hair is reason enough to keep him in the room with her for now. _

Beetlejuice looks surprised. "Wait, really?" 

Lydia smiles at him, pleased to see some of the purple disappear. The tender moment is abruptly brought to a close, though, by the arrival of a very pissed off ghost step-mom. Barbara Maitland doesn't float down so much as drop through the ceiling of Lydia's bedroom, landing atop the mess of besieged homework. She shoves Beetlejuice in the chest hard enough to knock him back a few steps away from Lydia. 

"How dare you come back to this house!" she yells.

The demon raises his hands placatingly. "Oh come on, Babs, I thought we were cool! We had that whole sequence where I wrapped up the plot and said goodbye to everybody!"

"You think that makes everything okay?!" Barbara puts her hands on her hips and huffs. It reminds Beetlejuice of how adorable the Maitlands are; sadly, it seems any chance of a literal devil's threesome has flown out the window, or, in a more accurate metaphor, been crushed by a steamroller, thrown in a blender, and fed to dispeptic lions at the Cincinnati zoo.

"Hey, I said I was sorry about the whole 'extortion by threat of permanent erasure via exorcism' thing," Beetlejuice says, making air quotes.

"You did?" Charles asks through the door.

"Well if you did,  _ I _ never heard it," Barbara says. 

Beetlejuice shrugs. "Said it, thought it, what's the difference? You're still around, aren't you?" The demon looks at the ceiling for a moment, as if waiting for someone else to drop down through it. "Hey, where's the other half of the world's hottest dead power couple? Still can't float through walls, huh?"

"Yes, I can!" the voice of Adam Maitland shouts from outside the bedroom. After a moment, a ghostly hand appears in the room as it phases through the wooden door, but is promptly yanked back outside.

"No!" Charles says, "Delia said it's crucial that at this stage of adolescence, parental figures respect a teenager's right to privacy!" 

"But _ Beetlejuice _ is in there!" Adam protests. "Who knows what he could do to them!"

Beetlejuice growls, the tips of his hair turning red. "Yeah, you better get in here before I do something bad to Lydia, the only damn person in this stupid house who doesn't hate my dead guts!" 

He takes a step towards Lydia, but is thrown backwards by a ghostly force, smashing against the wall and knocking down several of Lydia's posters. He lies on the floor, groaning loudly. Barbara stands between the demon and her adoptive daughter, posing like she's about to unleash some Jack Black panda-level Kung fu. 

_ As the poor excuse of a reunion unfolds, Lydia doesn't know what to think. The amount of anger in this argument causes a cruel buzz to stir inside her ears and before she knows it, Beetlejuice has been flung against a wall. _

_ "Please, just stop! We've already been the worst kind of people by killing him- I mean I killed him, I'm sorry but-" she vents frantically, hardly having any time to respond to everything at once. Thinking of staying here even longer makes her stomach churn and knot ferociously. On the other hand, she might just die if she escapes to the roof this late at night. "He's done bad things but that doesn't mean you can just throw him against a wall!" Lydia was firm, albeit scrambled and struggling desperately to hold back furious tears now. _

Barbara gives Lydia a concerned look. "Honey... I… you're right, I shouldn't have done that. I panicked."

For a moment the room is silent, save Beetlejuice's exaggerated groans as he slowly gets up. 

"Mr. Juice," Charles says from outside the door, "I think it would be best for all of us if you leave now."

_ "Leave?! Dad, come on-" Lydia starts, eyes beginning to sting and brim with tears. She knows this won't get her anywhere, but doesn't want Beetlejuice to think nobody's vouching for him. Crumpling back onto the bed, Lydia yields. "If he's got to leave, at least tell everyone else to get out and let me wallow in bed for the rest of the morning. This isn't fair..." _

Beetlejuice stands and straightens out his suit, a couple of extra arms appearing from somewhere to fix his tie as well. 

“Forget it, Lyds,” he says without looking at her. He shouts at the door, “I was about to leave anyway, so you can go ahead and untwist your sexy little pink panties, Chuck!” The demon turns to Barbara and wiggles an eyebrow flirtatiously. He gives her a lecherous grin, but the lascivious facade is belied somewhat by the purple creeping back into his hair.    
“You know, Babs, I’ve always found strong women  _ very _ attractive.”   
Barbara glares at him and raises a hand, but Beetlejuice disappears before she can throw him again. 

_ Lydia chokes up and shoots the group a cold stare- well, she stares at Barbara. Everyone else is behind the door. The gravity of what happened tonight starts to sink in uncomfortably. Hugging herself tightly, she slumps back into bed again. The ugly mix of frustration and sadness on her face is as obvious as anything.  _

_ "Thanks a bunch, you guys. I'm going back to sleep." _


	3. Requiem for a Sexy Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (to Beetlejuice's disappointment, this chapter contains no actual smut)

(Dale)

The sun shines gently on a lazy river. It's a perfect day. Beetlejuice floats on a black and white striped inner tube, drink in hand. He's not entirely sure what kind of drink it is or where he got it from but it's delicious and he doesn't care. A trio of hot babes in bikinis float by. Beetlejuice raises his presumably expensive designer shades and whistles at them. They giggle and start paddling over. As they approach, he notices that one of them is actually a dude. Not just any dude; it's BJ's most adorable ghost crush, Adam Maitland.  
Beetlejuice calls out, "A-dog! I want your opinion on something. Guy to guy; is this speedo too revealing?" The demon floats into the air to model it for him, then drops back into his tube, splashing the women and making them shriek playfully.  
Adam paddles over to him and pulls up beside his tube, smiling. "No, I don't think it's too revealing. But you know," he whispers in Beetlejuice's ear, "I'd rather see you without it."  
"Hey, leave some for the rest of us," one of the women teases. Beetlejuice turns to see Barbara Maitland leaning over her inner tube and onto his, staring at him with her perfect, sexy eyes. She strokes his arm and Beetlejuice feels pleasant shivers run up and down his spine.  
"Hey, hey, don't worry about it. There's plenty of demon to go around," he chuckles.  
"I sure hope so," the third inner tuber says. To Beetlejuice's delight, he looks over to see Katherine Hepburn floating beside him. She licks her lips. "Cause I came a long way to get a piece."  
A tap on the shoulder, and Beetlejuice turns his head to find Adam's face only a few inches from his. The man is trying so hard to look sultry and it's absolutely adorable. "It's showtime," he growls, and moves to close the gap between their lips.  
Right before their mouths touch, the demon feels a sudden, familiar tug. "Beetlejuice!"  
Fuck.  
Lydia's calling him again. Right in the middle of the best fucking dream he's ever had.  
"Beetlejuice!"  
The pull of being summoned gets stronger. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Why now?!?  
Beetlejuice cries out in dismay as the idyllic scene dissolves around him.  
"BEETLEJUICE!"  
The demon clenches his teeth and fights to resist the summons; after a moment, though, it becomes too painful to bear and he lets go, letting himself drift through time and space like a tube on a lazy river.  
He's surprised when he feels the tug pulling him into the Netherworld instead of the Maitland-Deetz residence. A sharp stab of fear temporarily replaces anger. Why the hell would Lydia be here?? She's not… dead, is she? No, she wouldn't be able to summon him if she weren't still living.  
With a puff of green smoke, Beetlejuice materializes in one of the Netherworlds countless intake processing rooms.  
"YOU'RE THE WORLD'S BIGGEST GOD DAMN FANTASY COCK BLOCK, LYDIA!! AND WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN THE NETHERWORLD, YOU GOT A DEATH WISH?!?" he screams, looking around the room for her.  
To his confusion, not only is Lydia nowhere to be seen, but the room is completely empty; devoid of the everpresent lines of newly dead chatting about how they died while waiting to be processed.  
Suddenly, Beetlejuice feels something tap him on the shoulder. He whirls around, but encounters only more empty space.  
"The hell?" he mutters. Are they invisible or something?  
Beetlejuice reaches his hands out and encounters something pleasantly soft and fleshy. Is it… an invisible boob?  
He moves closer to inspect it when an unseen force smacks him across the cheek. He cries out in pain and surprise, "OW! WHAT THE FU-" He cuts himself off as he suddenly sees a certain dead beauty queen standing in front of him, eyes blazing with anger. "Maria?" he says.  
"Lawrence, I don't know what drugs you have been taking but you need to go take them somewhere else!" she scolds in a sharp Argentinian accent. "We have a lot of newly dead to get through and your antics are not welcome here today! Mirá, tu mamá te llama!"  
Beetlejuice looks around, startled to find that the room is now filled with endless lines of the recently deceased, all staring at him.  
"Wait, wait, hold on," Beetlejuice grumbles, rubbing his still-stinging cheek. Damn, Ms. A has an impressive swing. "You've been here the whole time?"  
"What do you mean 'this whole time?' It was a perfectly normal day here until you show up, screaming about blocks and cocks and grabbing at me like that and making me hit you!" She folds her arms. "I am not sorry for that, by the way."  
"Yeah, I don't blame you. Have you seen Lydia?"  
The beauty queen frowns. "The living girl who came here for her mom? No, not since that day." She grimaces. "They say Juno should be finished reforming soon. If I were you, I would not be around here when that happens."  
The thought of what his mom is going to do to him when she gets back sends a shiver down his spine, and not the good, sexy kind. Beetlejuice swallows hard and says, "Yeah. Thanks for the heads-up, Ms. A. I'll get out of your hair now." He turns to leave, but stops and looks back at her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Hey, that was a pretty impressive slap. You know, I’ve always found strong women very attracti-"  
His lecherous comment is cut off by Miss Argentina making the immediate decision to get more demon-slapping practice; Beetlejuice poofs away just in time to avoid another well deserved smack.  
He reappears in the crappy little Netherworld house he calls home. Well, it's less of a house and more of an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere. He found it a hundred years ago in much the same state of disrepair as it is today. Beetlejuice likes it well enough; it's not like he needs running water to bathe or electricity to make his TV work. The latter he can do easily enough with his demonic powers and the prior has never been a concern for him. What is concerning is the fact that apparently he teleported somewhere in his sleep. As far he knew, he hadn't done that since he was a kid. Normally, he could tell the difference between dreams and reality; it was crucial to surviving the myriad nightmares that had plagued him for as long as he could remember. But the Lydia dream had felt so real. He thought back to the two times Lydia summoned him to her room. Did he dream those, too? He already felt kinda bad about yelling at her; if it turned out the whole thing was because of his stupid imagination, it would be even worse. Either way, he had to make sure it didn't happen again.  
In a lifetime of haunting houses with cable television, Beetlejuice had seen enough soap operas and dramas to make an educated guess that his dreams of Lydia calling him had their root in unsettled interpersonal conflict. The only way to stop the dreams was to resolve the source of the emotional turmoil... or take enough Ambien to fall into a dreamless, week-long coma. The latter option was tempting but it would be dangerous if he got summoned for realsies while completely knocked out. He knew his mother would summon him as soon as she finished reforming and God/Satan help him if he showed up unconscious.  
That left him with only one option: talk about his feelings with Lydia. The thought made him want to throw up. He groaned and flopped backwards onto the squeaky old mattress that served as his bed. As a rule, Beetlejuice would rather do anything besides confront his emotions; the exception being any form of interaction with his mother. The demon was dramatic, sure, and would readily admit that his mood was a little volatile at times, but the stuff that really mattered? The stuff that made him confront how damaged and desperately vulnerable and lonely he was? He didn't talk about it. It was too damn cliche. Just play it off like you're only being dramatic for attention. Deflect. Opening up only leads to hurt. But apparently now he didn't have a choice.


	4. Dawn of the Anti-Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: bullying, derogatory language towards women, minor injury (there will be a warning later in the chapter)

(Dale) _(Salsa)  
  
  
  
_

Two weeks pass without any sign of Beetlejuice. Lydia frequently considers summoning him on purpose, since apparently she's not doing it in her sleep anymore, but decides against it every time. On one hand, she misses Beetlejuice and wants to tell him she's sorry and make the purple in his hair go away. On the other hand, he was so angry the first two times she summoned him by accident; who knows how he'd react if she did it just so they could hang out. 

She decides to wait, at least for a couple months. Maybe Beej will calm down. Maybe he'll get lonely and show up by himself. Maybe she'll accidentally summon him again in the night; wouldn't that just be _terrible._

Going back to school is rough. Lydia feels more isolated than ever. The kids who started the fight that got Lydia suspended received the same punishment and rumor is that they hold a grudge. Fortunately, that fight had taken Lydia's reputation from "weird kid" to "psycho weird kid." The student body gossiped and trash-talked, but no one had the guts to mess with her outright.

Or so she thought.

It was another rainy day. Not even the good kind with thunder and lightning, just a constant, boring rainfall. Worse, it had looked like a perfectly clear day this morning, so Lydia opted to bike to school instead of getting a ride from Delia. Now she stood under an overhang of the building closest to the bike racks, watching her thoroughly soaked bike getting furiously pelted by mother nature.

As far as Lydia could tell, she had three options: 

  1. Call Delia, get a ride home, and pick up the bike tomorrow. This would let her stay dry but risked her bike getting stolen. She also didn't know if Delia would be home right now; she might be at a sustainable-yoga class or whatever. Even if Delia did give her a ride, it would mean listening to her talk for the whole drive about whatever new-agey thing she was into at the moment.
  2. Ignore the rain and bike home anyway. Ordinarily the preferred solution, but today Lydia was wearing a new black skirt and knew from experience that it would bleed dye when wet. This wouldn't have been a problem if her outfit was all black like usual, but today she was wearing a pair of dark grey leggings Delia had bought for her and pressured her into wearing. Delia had bought her a lot of dark grey clothing lately. She feigned ignorance whenever Lydia complained _("What do you mean? This_ is _black! Look how dark it is!")_ , but Lydia suspected it was her step-mom's way of surreptitiously weaning her off an all-black wardrobe. Whatever. As long as she didn't throw out Lydia's clothes, she could put up with having a few grey shirts and pants permanently folded away in her dresser drawer. She only resorted to wearing them when all her other clothes were dirty, like this morning. If she gets her skirt wet, black dye will likely bleed onto the dark grey leggings underneath and despite her denial of the two being distinct colors, Delia would probably notice the stains. 
  3. Sit it out. Wait under the overhang and maybe work on some homework until there's a break in the rain. The problem with this option is that Lydia has no idea how long that will take, and she doesn't want to bike home in the dark. 



_In the end, Lydia caves and decides to wait it out. Homework's been piling up on her anyway, so she might as well make a dent in it while she has nothing else to do. With so many assignments to choose from she opts for the longest one she has. Best to make decent progress in something big and leave the measly tasks last, right?_

_Of course, with the recent events on her mind, not a lot gets done, but she makes an honest effort. Lydia isn't sure how long she'll be out here for. Like times before, she finds solace in her own company for now._

An hour passes and the damn rain still hasn’t let up. There are only a few students still walking around the school; those in clubs or practicing sports. At least it’s not that cold...yet.

Lydia waits five more minutes then packs up her homework. She wraps her skirt around her hips as high as she dares and steals a few decorative safety pins from her blouse to keep it in place. She heads for the bike rack, hoping the leggings don't get stained enough for Delia to see. 

Unlocking the chain around her bike is difficult in the rain. The dials of the stupid combo lock are all wet and slippery. After a solid minute of effort, Lydia finally gets it. She re-ties the chain around the body of the bicycle and hops on. 

**_***tw: minor injury, scratches, bullying and derogatory language***_ **

She is almost off campus when something large comes out of nowhere and crashes into her from the side. The combined force of the impact and sudden deceleration sends her and her bike sprawling on the puddle-covered asphalt. Lydia barely manages to get her hands up in time to keep from slamming her entire face into the ground. The rough surface catches her skin, scratching up her palms. One knee hits the ground, tearing through the leggings and leaving shallow cuts that seep blood into the dark grey fabric. So much for avoiding stains. The worst injury comes from her own bike, the pedal of which lands directly on her foot and forces her ankle to twist painfully far to the left. Lydia groans and slowly sits up, trying to figure out what the hell happened.

A boy's voice calls out, "Oh, shit! Mark, whatt'd'ya do!?" 

Lydia turns to see a teenager in a football uniform running towards her. She then notices another boy in a uniform on the ground a few feet away from her. He pushes himself to his feet and brushes dirt off his pants, apparently no worse for wear. Figures. 

"Ugh…I don't know," he says, "I was just running for the ball, man. You’re the one who threw it hella far!"

The boy who ran to them stands over Lydia. "Damn, are you okay, girl?" He reaches out a hand as if to help her up, but pauses. "Wait… it’s the goth chick.” He turns to his buddy. “Hey Mark, didn’t she get you suspended?”

“Hey, yeah!” Mark looks down at Lydia and sneers. “I missed two games ‘cause of that, you bitch!” 

_Ignoring the sting from falling as best she can, Lydia looks up at the boys and grimaces. The rain continues to spit on her face. “Yeah, okay,” she dismisses the insult and stands up with the bike as leverage. Lydia stifles a pained noise as she puts weight on her injured foot. “We all got suspended, dude. You can stay mad at me if you want but I really should be getting home.” Lydia only prays that gets them off her back for today._ _  
  
_

"Are you serious? You're the freak that got us caught," Mark shouts. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway? Fuckin' obsessed with death and shit. Creepy as hell."

The other boy laughs. "You know I heard her mom died? Wouldn't be surprised if she killed her."

" _BRO,_ that's fuckin _dark_!" Mark says, laughing and giving his friend a punch on the shoulder.

_"Don't you say jack shit about my Mom!" Lydia snaps. She often just ignored the heckling at school, but anyone in their right mind knows that to talk smack about Dead Mom is a line that never gets crossed without consequence. Lydia knows she's quickly losing her cool but the voice of reason is snuffed out when she decides to close the distance between her and the two boys. "You don't ever say that to anyone, you understand?! I don't give a fuck when it comes to picking on me, but my Mom?!" she jabs the other boy's chest angrily over and over; if the boys learn one thing today, it should be that joking about Lydia's mother is unacceptable._

"Awwww, did I hurt your widdle feelings?" the boy mocks, smacking Lydia's hand away. Lydia considers going for his fucking throat but her twisted ankle buckles painfully. She falls backwards and lands hard on her butt, knocking the wind out of her. 

The boys whoop with laughter as she struggles to catch her breath. "Ho-holy shit! Hahaha! That's the funniest shit I've ever seen!" Mark wipes a tear from his eye. He picks up Lydia's backpack from the ground where it had fallen out of her bike basket and unzips the biggest pocket. "Hey Deetz, fetch!" He throws the backpack as hard as he can. Loose papers and notebooks fly out in a spectacular cloud as it arcs through the air before landing with a splash in an enormous puddle thirty feet away. Lydia notices with dismay that her phone is lying on the ground amidst the soggy schoolwork, screen completely shattered. Fuck, now she can't call Delia.

~~"Fuck yeah, Mark! We're the best bullies ever!"~~

~~"I love manifesting my personal problems as violence against others!"~~

The other boy grabs Lydia's bike and sets it upright, smirking. "Wow, this is a pretty big bike for a girl. You know, my bike got stolen last week; mind if I _borrow_ it?"   
  


_Lydia wills the pain from the fall away as hard as she can. "Are you serious?! I need that to get home! I get it, you guys like to hold grudges, especially against the weird kid, but come on!" She props herself up and stares daggers at the two boys despite her injury. "There's a point here that even you guys know you shouldn't be stooping to!" At this point, Lydia's more concerned about how she'll get home if she loses her bike to these two way more than the papers she's already lost to the rain._

Mark snorts. "Yeah, man, why're you _stooping_ so low? Aren't you ashamed? Better quit it, or next she's gonna threaten to 'teach you a lesson,' or some shit." He doubles over, laughing at this own words like the world's stupidest hyena. 

The other boy frowns. "The fuck's 'stooping?'" 

His confusion only makes Mark laugh harder. "You dumbfuck," he cackles, and gives his friend another jovial punch. "C'mon, let's go. It's wet as dicks out here."

The other boy scoffs and hops on to the bike. He starts pedaling and Mark runs to catch up. As they leave, Lydia can hear Mark unsuccessfully trying to convince his friend to let him sit on the back of the bike. The other boy says something about not "stooping" to give him a ride.

The young Ms. Deetz is left sitting in the unremitting rainfall next to a pile of ruined schoolwork and without a working phone, ankle, or bike. 

_As they cycle away, Lydia's resolve dampens and she chokes out a sob. "You assholes!" she yells after them. Her ankle throbs and the rain is pummelling her and every second she's out on the asphalt is horrible. "Fuck," Lydia breathes forcedly. There are pained tears mixing in with the rain; all she can think about now is how cold and dark it'll get until someone comes looking for her._

_Lydia makes the decision that nobody is coming. It's getting darker and the rain won't let up. She worries for a brief moment about how things were left the last time it happened, but there's no other option._

_"Buh... Beetlejuice," she utters through clattering teeth, and braces herself. "Beetlejuice," Lydia clutches a fist to her chest, hoping to death he's not in the middle of something important. If there were any time she needed a friend, it's now. "Beetlejuice!"_

Ten seconds pass. Lydia is starting to think that maybe the summoning didn't work when finally, the demon appears in a small puff of green smoke. Beetlejuice has one palm over his face, hair a dull, dark green. He gives a loud, weary sigh. 

"Kid… we gotta talk about this. I-" He cuts himself off as he notices Lydia sitting on the ground, completely soaked and shivering. "Woah, Lyds! You're doing that weird vibrating thing breathers do. That's bad, right? You're cold?" Beetlejuice looks up at the clouds mercilessly pelting the Earth below them. He focuses for a moment and suddenly the rain is no longer falling on the two of them; as if they had a big invisible umbrella. The demon turns to Lydia and offers a hand, presumably to help her get up. "The hell are you doing out here, kid? I didn't piss my mom the hell off just so you could die from some stupid water a couple months later!"

_“They... stole my bike.” Sniffling, Lydia carefully props herself up on her knee. “And my phone’s smashed. Delia’s gonna kill me,” she mutters forlornly. Hesitantly taking the demon’s hand, she attempts to get up. The twisted ankle twinges harshly and Lydia winces; looks like she’ll be hopping home with Beetlejuice at this rate. “Busted my ankle too. It uh, it really hurts,” she finally admits, forcing a half-smile his way._

Beetlejuice frowns. His hair flashes between red and… blue? What does that one mean?

An arm appears from somewhere to help support Lydia as she balances on one foot. With the aid of another spare arm, Beetlejuice shrugs off his coat and wraps it around her. It's heavy, and definitely not clean, but Lydia immediately feels warmer. 

_Lydia clings to the coat and reflexively curls up in the surrounding cloth. It’s comforting and she finds herself relaxing even if her nose crinkles at the smell._

_"Thanks," she huffs softly. It's still a bit odd to her that he doesn't seem annoyed like the last time. "I was honestly kinda worried I'd interrupted another game of poker or something..." hunkering down further into the coat, she laughs a little; the throbbing ankle tells her that it was maybe just a bit silly to have thought about that._

Beetlejuice shrugs. "Eh, I wasn't up to much. Eating snails, mostly. Can you walk?" 

_“Um, if anything it’s more of a hop-on-one-foot type deal. So not really." She grips the coat tighter. Lydia thinks, maybe after they get out of the rain they could think about giving that hang-out sesh another go. The thought makes her smile. "I don't really know how to fix this."_

Beetlejuice smiles, and for once it doesn’t look unsettling. "Leave it to the B-Man."   
Using a couple extra arms, Beetlejuice picks up Lydia like she barely weighs a thing. She'd forgotten how strong the demon was.

"Hold on" is all the warning she gets before the world turns upside down. Colors flash by like an aggressively-psychedelic screensaver as the two of them hurtle through space. It's kind of beautiful, but Lydia feels like she's going to throw up. A moment later and they're in her bedroom. Beetlejuice gently sets her down on the bed, her wet clothes and borrowed coat immediately soaking through the sheets. He notices the nauseous expression on her face and winces.

"Sorry, should've told you to close your eyes."

_After a moment Lydia rubs her eyes and groans. "Hey, it's okay. At least we're home - thanks, Beej," as damp as it is, the soft give of the bed is a welcome feeling. She snakes her hands through the oversized sleeves of Beetlejuice's coat to cradle her ankle carefully. Lydia sucks in a worried breath. "Wish I could've summoned you under better circumstances. I'm glad you showed up to help," she says, smiling up at her friend._

Beetlejuice rubs the back of his neck, distractedly. "It's not like I could refuse, but… sure." He doesn't meet her eyes, but she sees some of the familiar bright green start creeping into his hair. After a moment, though, it's replaced by a glowing red as he scowls. "You said someone took your bike. Who?"

_Lydia grimaces. "Two someones, actually. A couple of assholes I got suspended by accident. They must take their grudges real serious because they tossed my bag too and- shit." The panic sets in as her eyes fail to locate the backpack as they dart around the room. "Damnit, I knew I was missing something- I had so many assignments due and now its all face down in some stupid puddle. Ugh, this is such a mess!"_

When Lydia looks back to where Beetlejuice was standing, there's only a small cloud of green smoke. He's gone? What the hell? Lydia feels more than a little hurt that Beej would just up and leave her like that. But... she's still wearing his stinky coat; he'll definitely come back for that, right?

After a few tense minutes, the demon reappears, holding her backpack. "Here," he says, handing it to her. "Dried it best I could but no promises on the organization."

Lydia takes the bag, surprised to find that it's no longer wet. She unzips the main pocket to find a bunch of papers crammed inside, somewhat crumpled but now completely dry.

_As she rummages through the papers to check that everything's accounted for - and it's okay if some of it is missing, Lydia's over the moon that most of it is here - a genuine smile creeps up to the corners of her face. "Oh my god, Beej," she exclaims and gives the demon a jovial pat on the arm, "this is great, thank you so much!" the bag is simultaneously zipped up and dumped noncommittally on the floor beside them._

Beetlejuice flinches a little when she reaches out to touch his arm. "Yeah, whatever. Tell me who took your bike."

_"Um, what are you gonna do if I tell you?" she probes gently, but there's a hint of suspicion in the question. He may have helped her but Lydia knows from past experience what he's capable of. "They were probably just getting back at me, y'know... I dropped a millipede in one of the guys' hair a while back."_

Beetlejuice's face lights up. "Are you serious? That's awesome!" He wipes a tear from his eye and sniffles. "I'm so proud of you, kid. But are you serious? You're just gonna roll over and let them steal your bike?? And that foot too," he says, gesturing at her ankle. "Don't tell me it's a coincidence that you got jacked and snapped at the same time."   
Beetlejuice's face softens and he gives Lydia a strenuously earnest look. It's more than a little disconcerting. "C'mon, Lyds, where's your fighting spirit? Don't you want your bike back? If you tell me who did it, I promise I'm not gonna hurt em',” he pleeds, adding under his breath, "at least... not much." He flashes a wide, sharp-toothed grin that Lydia presumes is supposed to be endearing but would creep the hell out of anyone besides her. "C'mon Lydia, let me do some vengeance pleeeeeeease?"  
He places an arm across his chest and gazes stoically into the distance (well, into the bedroom wall, at least). "I've always wanted to be an anti-hero, awesomely serving justice outside the law," he says dramatically, "The police try to chase me down because I'm not afraid to break the rules and a few bones to get the job done. When I first appear, the citizens fear me, but in the end I gallantly risk my life to save the day and win the eternal adoration of a city rescued from the precipice of doom."

_This makes Lydia chuckle. "Okay, okay, you're no Deadpool but I totally believe you," she doesn't, but it's nice to know he's this eager to ruin these kids' lives for her... in a weirdly heart-warming way._

Beetlejuice frowns. "Who?"

_In the end she gives and tells him, "Alright, one of them's called Mike and the other was wearing a football uniform at the time."_

_It's tempting to ask how the hell he's supposed to find them when neither of them know where the boys went, but it's Beetlejuice, so Lydia doesn't waste her breath on it._

He taps his chin, thoughtfully. "Well that narrows it down to only every jock named Mike, one of the most common names." Beetlejuice grins maliciously, hair turning a dangerous hot-rod red. "Good enough for me."


	5. Honestly, Adam is the Real Victim Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Chapter Titles:  
> "That time Delia almost bludgeoned Beetlejuice with a healing crystal"  
> "Beetlejuice forgets that bikes are usually kept outside, or maybe he just doesn't care"

(Dale) _(Salsa)_  
  


Lydia manages to deflect any of her family's questions about how she got into her room by dramatically playing up the pain of her grievous injuries. Barbara springs into action, assuming command like a trauma surgeon. She gives orders for bandages, antiseptic-solution, warm water, ice packs, pain killers, and towels. Delia gathers extra pillows and sets her most potent healing crystals around the room. She is only dissuaded from lighting several scented candles when Barbara reminds her that it makes Lydia's nose itch.  
It is universally decided that Lydia will be excused from school tomorrow and taken to the doctor if her ankle doesn't feel better in the morning. Charles Deetz is sent to the store to purchase an ankle brace for use in the meantime and after ten minutes of searching, Adam retrieves a pair of crutches from the attic.  
  
  
It's several hours later when Beetlejuice shows back up again. His timing is not great. Delia is bringing Lydia a new ice pack when the demon poofs back into existence only a couple feet away from her, bike in hand. She and Beetlejuice both shriek and jump backwards. Unfortunately, this leads to Delia tripping over Lydia's backpack, which is set on the floor next to the bed, and Beetlejuice tripping over Lydia's bike, which he had apparently thought was a good idea to bring into her room.

"Ow!" he shouts, rubbing his ass where it landed on the pedals. 

Delia groans and sits up, then shrieks again and scuttles backwards. "Ch-Ch-Ch-" she stutters.

Beetlejuice frantically waves his hands. "Nononononono-"

"CHARLES!" 

"Aw, crap!"

_The sudden commotion makes Lydia jump and jar her ankle some. Her hands curl uncomfortably into the sheets as Lydia realises that, yeah, everyone in the house has definitely heard that._ _  
_ _"Delia, wait! This is- he's trying to help, you don't get it!" she babbles in a mixture of panic and shock. 'There is no way this can go better than the last time this happened, is there?' Lydia thinks hopelessly to herself._

To be fair to Delia, Beetlejuice is not very friendly looking at the moment; not that he ever looks friendly, but somehow he's even more terrifyingly gross than usual. For one thing, he doesn't have his coat on, which reveals a completely ruined black and white striped dress shirt with several buttons missing, tie askew, and a few suspicious dark red stains on the sleeves among a generous coating of brownish grime. His left brow is split and a thick, black fluid oozes down that side of his face, smeared around where he presumably wiped it away from his eye. The only part of Beetlejuice that doesn't scream "I fear for my safety around you" is his hair. Lydia had kind of expected it to be red, but it's actually a messy combination of yellow, blue, and purple.

"Godammit, Debora!" he shouts, ungracefully prying himself off of the overturned bike.

"What are you doing here and also my name is not Deborah!" Delia shouts back. In an act of admirable, if pointless, martyrdom, she grabs a pointy hunk of white quartz off the floor, scrambles to her feet, and stands protectively between him and Lydia, wielding the crystal like some sort of weapon. 

Charles' panicked voice comes from somewhere in the house. "Delia! What's wrong?? What happened??"

_In the moment Lydia thinks of nothing better to do than to grab Delia by the arm and give her a considerable tug back towards the bed. As far as she's concerned, they are not going to have a repeat of that incident a few months back - not if Lydia can help it. "Delia, stop!" she shouts, accompanied by another frustrated tug, "This isn't happening again! Beej brought me back here, dried my bag and now he's got my bike back too. I'm so done with you guys!" in her heart of hearts she doesn't mean it, but the heat of the moment doesn't leave much room for kindness._

Delia turns to Lydia, shocked. "Lydia, I don't…"

To Lydia's dismay, her father bursts into the room; unchecked this time by the already open door. 

"Mr. Juice!" he bellows, joining Delia in standing between the demon and his daughter. "I know that Lydia considers you a… friend, but I thought it was made clear that your presence is unwelcome in this house. Additionally, your timing could not be more unfortunate. Lydia is grievously injured and the last thing she needs right now is to be disturbed by your shenanigans!" 

Beetlejuice smacks his forehead. " _My_ timing?? I came here to bring Lydia's bike back, you asshats! And put that rock down, Ophelia; everyone knows if you're gonna weaponize a crystal, it _has_ to be vanadinite or black tourmaline." He looks at Lydia and gestures at the adults. "See? This is the problem with being an anti-hero; you're always tragically misunderstood."

_"Dad, please! He's been trying to help!" though it all may as well be falling on deaf ears, Lydia persists, "He's the one who actually cared to bring me back here- I could have frozen to death!" she gestures indignantly to the window. This is so unfair, she hates it, she should have just told them how she got back here when she had the chance.  
"Beej has done some... really bad things, but- but turning him away whenever he shows up isn't giving him any room to show people he can do good things, too!" Lydia scolds, and for a second she surprises herself; the Maitlands' compassion must be rubbing off on her. _

Beetlejuice clasps his hands together next to his face and smiles adoringly. "Aw, Lyds, that's so nice! The Maitlands' compassion must be rubbing off on you." 

Lydia rolls her eyes but smiles back at him. However, the tender moment is promptly ruined by the sudden arrival of the aforementioned spectral couple. Apparently, Adam has been practicing the whole ghost-power-thing because this time he drops from the ceiling alongside his wife, who literally screams 'hiYA!" on the way down and lands in a battle stance. 

Beetlejuice shrieks, "Eeep!" and poofs out of existence, leaving the bike to fall over again with a crash.

_As Beetlejuice dissipates, Lydia scowls furiously into the space of the room; she doesn't want to chance looking at anyone in case she starts angry-crying. Her bottom lip quivers out of her control as she attempts to process the fact that it's all just happened again._ _  
_ _"You seriously didn't have to do that." She sounds absolutely dismal and it's clear Lydia is holding her tongue before she can say something she regrets._

"You're right; why don't you just summon him back here again so he can endanger us all?" Barbara says sardonically.

"Barbara!" Adam shouts, shocked at his wife's unusual display of anger.

"Oh come on, Adam, you know it's true," she snaps.

_"What the hell, Barbara?! He wouldn't have run away if he wanted to hurt anyone!" Lydia snaps at the both of them. If her ankle weren't all fucked up, she'd be on her feet yelling this in her face, she was so furious. "I barely have friends as it is, are you trying to make me lose one of the best chances at one I have?!"_

"That _monster_ is not your friend, Lydia!" Barbara shouts. 

"BARBARA! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Adam yells, grabbing her shoulders. "This isn't like you!"

She wheels on him. "Really, Adam?? Cause it feels like no one in this house cares that a _literal demon tried to kill me_ , including **you** !" Barbara's voice cracks at the end of her tirade.   
Suddenly, Adam has her in a tight embrace. He speaks softly, "Honey, you know that's not true. We all care." He looks her in the eyes. "You know I would do anything to protect you."

Slowly, the fury drains from Barbara's face, replaced by an expression of horror. She covers her mouth with her hand, tears starting to well up. "Oh, Adam. I'm so sorry."

_Lydia simmers and lets the couple have their moment before saying, "I'm, uh, sorry too. I technically had a part in that and I wasn't thinking about it until you said..."_

_She folds in on herself a little. There's guilt bubbling somewhere and Lydia doesn't like it. The family doesn't usually have fallouts this big and it hits hard, especially after everything that happened earlier today._

_"Barbara, I know this probably won't help, but what I said about Beetlejuice? He is trying to be better, in his own way; he brought me back here because I was stuck outside and couldn't walk."_

"Oh _that's_ how you got back!" Delia laughs and claps her hands. Apparently she hadn't been listening when Lydia had tried to explain it during the chaos before. "It was practically driving me crazy trying to figure out how-" Delia notices the looks she's getting from everyone in the room and cuts herself off. She clears her throat. "Sorry. Not the time."

Charles turns to his daughter. "Lydia… is this true? Why on Earth would you summon that man instead of calling one of us?"

_"I would have if the kids who stole my bike didn't also get my phone smashed." she says flatly, "I didn't even think he'd show up, but..." Lydia goes quiet and shrugs her shoulders._

Several of the adults speak at once.

"Wait, he doesn't have to show up?" Adam asks.

"Someone stole your bike and phone??" Barbara says.

"Lydia, I… I'm sorry for not giving you the chance to explain," Charles says. "This misunderstanding is largely my fault for making you feel like you could not tell me the complete truth and trust me not to form premature conclusions, as we all so clearly have done."

Delia puts her hand on his chest, lovingly. "Charles, this is so good; you've really become attuned to your state of mind and self-awareness of your emotions," She looks at the other occupants of the room and frowns. "The energy in here is very...un-positive."

Adam nods. "You're right. We need to come together as a family and resolve this. I'll get the whiteboard and we can discuss-"

Before Adam can finish the thought, Delia says enthusiastically, "Alright then, it's settled. Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

"Delia! We needed to come up with a plan first!" Adam shouts.

A moment later, Beetlejuice reappears in the room. He looks around, sees Barbara, and screams "SHIT!" before immediately poofing away again.

_Lydia rolls her eyes at Delia. “After the welcome you gave him I doubt he’s gonna want to stick around now,” she grouches. Adam’s right, they need to think of a way around this, but she doesn’t have many ideas. “Beej isn’t likely to turn up if you’re all still here, especially after all... that.” Lydia waves her hands about the room. “Anyone have ideas?”_

Beetlejuice's muffled voice comes from outside the window. "Yeah! You could try being nice to me!"

"Is he… outside??" Charles says. 

After a moment the demon answers "...No?"

Delia shouts at the window, "Come back later, we're trying to come up with a plan to utilize this adversity to become stronger as a family!"

"You calling me an 'adversity,' Deppy?!" Beetlejuice shouts.

"Oh come on, that's even a real name!" Delia yells back.

_If Beetlejuice could hear thoughts, Lydia would mentally will him to be quiet. He can't as far as she knows, but that doesn't stop her from wishing he would let the family discuss things in peace at this moment. Lydia attempts to distract Delia from the demon's antagonistic name-calling by steering everyone back on topic, "Okay, I know you guys have your own feelings about Beetlejuice, but can we try to sort something out without more arguments?"_

Beetlejuice shouts from outside again, "GOD, you sound so _lame_ right now. Look, I'll let you guys talk about your 'pwecious lil' feewings'; I just want my coat back."

The humans and ghosts look around the room for a moment, finding nothing.

"You left your coat here?" Charles asks.

"Yeah! … didn't I?…wait...AH, SHIT! It's in the void!"  
They hear Beetlejuice audibly shout, "Poof!" before going silent.

Adam and Barbara walk over to the window and look outside. "Yup, he's gone,” Adam confirms.

_"... Okay?" Lydia questions dumbly before quickly righting herself and continuing the discussion, "So, um, we all know that none of you like Beetlejuice that much... and I really can't blame you guys, but I think it'd be nice to try to accept him? Give him a chance?"_

_Lydia looks sheepishly at her Dad, to Delia, and then to the Maitlands. She's never had to think of what to say so carefully before. "I really don't know where I'm going with this..." she groans._

"Well, first things first; we need a whiteboard," Adam declares. "It should be in the attic; be right back." Instead of walking to the door, Adam apparently decides to prove his ghostly abilities; he looks at the ceiling, crouches, and jumps directly up as hard as he can. To his credit, he does manage to get all the way to the ceiling; however, instead of phasing through the wood and drywall, he slams into it with a powerful *THUD* and falls to the floor like a spectral ragdoll.

"Adam!" Barbara shouts, moving with impressive supernatural speed to his side. "Are you okay??"

Adam groans and blinks. "Wuhh?" he…mumbles. Barbara shushes him gently and picks him up, holding him in her arms like he weighs nothing; which technically, he does. She walks to the door.

"Sorry, guys, we've got to rest for a bit. Please, start without us," Barbara says to Lydia, Charles, and Delia.

"Are you sure? We can wait," Charles asks.

Barbara shakes her head. "No, go ahead and start. Last time Adam banged his head like this, he was out of it for a solid hour and a half."

Charles strokes his chin. "Ah, yes, the wiffle-bat fiasco. I remember that incident."

Barbara sighs. "I don't think any of us will forget it. Except Adam. He can't remember because of the concussion. We'll see you all in a bit."   
Barbara starts to leave but pauses and turns to look at Lydia. "Lydia, I'm… I'm so sorry." She disappears into the hall and a few moments later, the living humans hear wood creaking as she climbs the fold-down ladder that leads to the attic. 

"Well," says Delia, putting her weaponized crystal back on the floor. She claps her hands determinedly, "It's just us, then. My guru Oth- Kevin always said, '(INSERT CLEVER PROVERB HERE)'". At the confused look from Charles she adds, "What? Yeah, he was a fraud who deceived me and conned a lot of spiritually aware people out of their money, but that doesn't mean he didn't have some good advice."

"Hmm...yes…" Charles says, clapping his hands somewhat less-determinedly than his fiance. "Well, I have the feeling that we are in for a lengthy, much-too-long-delayed discussion." As he speaks he steps to the desk chair and twists it around, gesturing for Delia to sit; opting to stay standing himself.

_As the two get situated, Lydia shuffles up in her bed some into a more upright position; injury be damned, she thinks - she'd already been sitting in that bed for too long. "You could say that again. It's gonna be a long evening of talking about our feelings," she bristles._

_Despite all the good Beetlejuice had done for Lydia today, she doubts that a few acts of kindness are going to sway her family's opinions overnight. Lydia voices that, by the end of it, she hopes they'll agree to let them both hang like they had a few months back (minus all the scaring and exorcisms and last-minute underage marriage, of course)._

Charles speaks next; his prescient language giving the impression that he has been giving this matter thought for some time.

"Lydia, my primary concern is for your safety. You can not deny that the man is dangerous. I know that the two of you… _bonded_ over your shared objection to Delia's and my presence in this house, as well as a disturbing fixation on death and predilection for terrorizing visitors," Charles coughs before awkwardly continuing, "Despite the fact that Mr. Juice is _not_ the kind of person I would like to see you spend time with, I appreciate that he was there for you in a time when I… was not." Charles gives Lydia a remorseful look. "I will admit that it's a lasting source of shame for me; to know that in a time of crisis, my daughter found more emotional support in a literal demon than in her own father."   
He kneels before Lydia and gently takes her hands in his own; gazing at her lovingly. "I hope that I will never fail you in such a way again."

Delia lets out a small sob and wipes away a tear. "Oh, Charles, that was beautiful." She sniffles, and Charles briefly lets go of Lydia's hands to offer her a handkerchief, which she readily accepts.

_Lydia stares dumbly at Charles. “I... wait, no Dad,” she stumbles over her words as she squeezes his hands in return, “I’m over that, we’re fine.”_

"Yes, well, I watched this TED talk the other day and the presenter stressed that healthy conflict resolution has to include actually voicing one's apology and not leaving it implied. So…" Charles throws up a couple of misplaced hand signs. "'We cool?'"

_“Yeah, we cool,” Lydia smiles and rolls her eyes. They’re not on the exact topic she wants to discuss but it’s alright for now; as long as they get around to it soon. She flexes her hands and rests them on her lap. “Um, what now?”_

Charles stands back up and straightens his clothes. "Concerning the demo- Beetlejuice; against my better judgement, I will agree to a two week trial period." He mutters somewhat more quietly, "I suppose there's no way we could stop him if he had the inclination to be here, save for setting Barbara on him." Charles turns to his fiance. "My love, I anticipate that you find this proposal satisfactory?"

Delia nods. "I think it's the best way to ameliorate all the negative energy that has perforated this house."

Charles raises his eyebrows. "That is impressively magniloquent language, Delia." 

Delia smiles proudly. "Thank you! I've been using a new mindfulness app that encourages spiritual growth by practicing vocabulary. It's called 'Lexi- _con_ -ditioning.'"

"What a ...remarkable concept." Charles clears his throat. "Well, it appears we have reached a consensus; is this entente acceptable to you, Lydia?" 

"Entente; I need to write that one down," Delia says, taking out her phone.

_Rambling aside, Lydia's face lights up as the best she can hope to hear for now is decided. "Yes! Yeah, that's great!" She beams excitedly, "I promise you, Dad, we're gonna be fine. He won't get into any deal-breaking trouble, I swear!" Lydia adds. She ponders that it sounds like she's trying to convince the family to keep an unruly stray they found under some bridge and laughs to herself._

"Very well," Charles says, smiling. His smile drops after a moment, though. "Now, to convince the Maitlands."

Delia interjects excitedly, "I have an idea! As part of my training as a life coach, I learned all about manipulative psychology."

Charles gives her a slightly concerned look. "...You have a strange job."

She raises a finger. " _But_ an important one! If I remember correctly, chapter two of _'Covert Healing: a Practical Guide to Underhanded Therapy_ ' was all about leveraging guilt to get what you want. Barbara feels bad about yelling at you, Lydia; we can use that."

Charles takes Delia in his arms and stares passionately into her eyes. "My God, woman, your devious cunning so beguiles me."

_“Oh god, I almost forgot about them! I hope Adam’s okay...” Lydia fusses, staring worriedly at the ceiling while fiddling with her clothes - there was a feeling in her gut saying that Barbara wouldn’t like this idea at all. “But erm, ‘manipulative psychology’? I feel a little bad using what happened to our advantage but... okay. You know what you’re talking about, so let’s do it.”_

Delia puts a hand on Lydia's shoulder. "Leave it to me; you rest that foot." She makes to leave but pauses and comes back to give Charles a small kiss on the cheek. When she's gone, Lydia sees her dad grinning like an idiot. He notices her attention and clears his throat again. 

"Well, I suppose it's in Delia's hands now. I think I will resume the work I was doing in my office; unless, you need anything?"

_Lydia wishes Delia luck as she waves her stepmom off, and settles further into bed; the day was getting weary, Lydia couldn't think of anything better than sleeping it off._ _  
_ _"I'm okay, Dad. See you later," she yawns, stretching one arm overhead._


	6. "It's the Conflict Resolution/Heart-to-vaguely-heartshaped-organ Talk You've Been Waiting For"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: PRODUCT CONTAINS CONCENTRATED DOSES OF FLUFF. USE ONLY AS NEEDED. DO NOT EXCEED 30MG IN A 24HR PERIOD. ASK YOUR DOCTOR IF _DALECATONE SALSALINENE©_ IS RIGHT FOR YOU.**
> 
> Alternate Chapter Titles:   
> "Return of The Anti-hero"  
> "Gross talk about Yucky Feelings and Stuff"  
> "The Gang Gets Emotionally Vulnerable"  
> "Beetlejuice may or may not have punched a kid"

(Dale)( _Salsa)_  
  
  


"Psst. Psssst. ...PSSST!" 

Lydia wakes to the sound of someone trying to wake her up without being overheard; though the volume of their hissing is rapidly becoming noticeably loud.

_ Both startled and wanting the noise to stop, she waves a hand haphazardly into the darkness of the room before flicking the bedside lamp on. "SHHHH," Lydia seethes with a whisper, it's pretty obvious who it could be; nobody else in the house is that obnoxious. "Are you trying to wake everyone up?! What is it?" she grumbles, and in the same heartbeat, Lydia realises she can answer that question for herself, “Oh crap, did I summon you in my sleep again? Beej, I’m sorry, I swear I’m not doing it on purpose-“  _

"Yeah...uh… about that," Beetlejuice says, looking more than a little guilty. "I kinda realized it's been  _ me _ summoning myself here in my sleep. I keep having dreams where you say my name- at some extremely inopportune times, by the way. A couple days ago you very rudely interrupted a really hot dream where I was floating on an inner tube and the Maitlands and Katherine Hepburn showed up and were all like, 'Oh BJ, you sexy minx, we totally wanna bang you,' and they started fighting over me and I was like, 'Please, please, there's plenty of demon to go around,' and I asked Adam if my speedo was too revealing and he was like, 'No, but I'd rather see you out of it,' and then Barbara started rubbing my arm and…"    
Beetlejuice trails off when he notices Lydia's grossed out expression. He clears his throat and continues, "Anyway, then you ruined it by summoning me to the damn netherworld, of all places, and that blue beauty queen slapped me for absolutely no reason at all. I'm an idiot for believing it was real but I’m just not used to having dreams that aren’t….I don’t know, bad?” He sighs. "You breathers only have to worry about sleep-walking; I've got to worry about sleep-teleporting. I mean, I haven't done it since I was a kid, but apparently old habits die hard."

_ "Wait, really?" Lydia asks, incredulous, "I didn't know that was something you could even do! And here we were both thinking I was the culprit." She gives Beetlejuice a playful nudge and a smirk. That's a relief; now Lydia can go about her life knowing she doesn't have some weird Freudian dream connection with her demon friend. "Also, knock it off Beej, you used to be a kid?! Well, like, a demon kid?" she adds, equal parts curious and surprised.  _

Beetlejuice fiddles with the cuff of one coat sleeve, which looks like it might have a piece of gum stuck to it. "Well duh, everybody starts out as a kid," he says. "But yeah, I get your point. I'm what they call a 'born-dead.' Never been alive."    
Well, that explained why he was so cavalier about death, Lydia thought. She expected him to stop there, but instead he continued, 

"My mom was alive, though. Apparently she's always been a venomous old bitch. Survived a bunch of people trying to kill her and took out twice as many. When she finally kicked the bucket, which I'm told was during a knife fight at the lithe young age of ninety-two, she got to the Netherworld and literally raised Hell until the higher-ups finally gave her a promotion to demi-demonhood. I have no idea why mom decided to make a kid but apparently she found somebody who could survive sex with a murderous she-beast." Beetlejuice looks thoughtful for a moment. "Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if she bit off his head after mating, like a black widow. Would explain why I never saw him." Beetlejuice shudders. "Boy, I am so screwed when she comes back."

_ Lydia lets out an 'ahh' of realisation. That definitely does make more sense. "Dunno why I always assumed you'd died somewhere along the line like a normal person. 'Born-dead' explains a lot- wait, when your mom comes back? Netherworld rules are so weird, you gonna be okay with that?" Lydia asks incredulously; she doesn't catch herself rambling.  _

Beetlejuice gives her a flat look. "What part of 'my mom probably killed her romantic partner post-coitus' gives you the impression I'm gonna be okay when she gets done with me?"

_ "I didn't mean it like that, Beej. I'm asking because I'm worried," she corrects. For some naive reason Lydia thought he'd be off the hook since Sandy had decimated his mom, but this new development concerns her a lot. "What are you gonna do? I'd ask if there's anything I could do, but that woman tried to kill us all, so…" _

Beetlejuice looks thoughtful for a moment. "Well, it'd be nice to have sex with the Maitlands at least one before I get ripped to shreds."

_ She scrunches her nose up and makes a face of disdain. “I respect your wishes, but gross.” Lydia shudders at the mere thought. It doesn’t help that she had to see both of them at least try to make out with him to stop him from killing everybody once before...  _ _   
_ _ Shaking all that mess from her mind, Lydia changes the subject, “Oh! What about that hang-out sesh that never happened? Dad said you can spend time here if the Maitlands come round to it!” she chirps happily. _

"Woah, really?" Beetlejuice says, surprised. "I thought Chuck wanted me out of his ever-thinning hair." 

_ Lydia laughs at this. “Hey, wanna sit on the bed? There’s room,” she says, shifting her legs so Beetlejuice can take a seat if he wishes. _

"Inviting me into your bed, huh?" Beetlejuice suggestively wiggles his eyebrows, sitting down next to her.

"Ew," Lydia says and gives him a soft punch on the arm. The demon pretends to be mortally wounded by this and falls backwards on the bed dramatically. 

"Noooooo, you have killed me!" he whisper-shouts, apparently caring about not waking people up, for once. Lydia smiles. Maybe this can work out. No matter what happens in-between, they're still friends.    
The fuzzy sentiment is broken, however, by Beetlejuice quietly adding, " ... again."

Lydia winces. When he doesn't say anything else, she looks behind her at the filthy demon lying on her bed, absently noting that she'll need to change the blankets. Beetlejuice's eyes are closed, but it doesn't seem like he's asleep, especially since his hair is slowly fading between yellow and purple. It breaks her heart a little.

She lies down next to him and stares at the ceiling Barbara is so fond of dropping through. "Hey… can I say something gross and dumb?" she asks.

Beetlejuice answers without opening his eyes, "Well duh, Lyds. Do I look like the kind of guy who'd pass on something gross and dumb?" 

She shakes her head, which he can't see but can hear her hair rustling against the fabric. "No, not the good kind of gross. Like, the  _ feelings _ kind."

Beetlejuice furrows his brow. "Ugh... sure, I guess."

Lydia nods. She fiddles with a black tungsten ring.  _ Come on, you've thought about this a lot,  _ she thinks _.  _ "Beej….I… I'm sorry. For killing you. And the tricking thing." Once it's out of her mouth, she wants to curl up in a ball and groan.

Beetlejuice gives a half-hearted smile, eyes still closed. "...Heh. I appreciate it kid, but you didn't trick me." He gestures with his hands. "I mean sure, I didn't expect you to jump into the fucking  _ Netherworld, _ but the whole pretending-to-love-me-thing and going along all happy with the wedding? Please, I wasn’t born yesterday; I wasn’t even born in the last century. Yeah, it took me a minute to figure out  _ why _ everyone in the house was suddenly DTF, but I already knew the reason wasn't kosher."

Lydia frowns and sits up. "But… if you knew, why didn't you try to stop it?"

Beetlejuice raises an eyebrow, still not opening his eyes. "Why would I? I was gonna be alive like I wanted _ and  _ two hot ghosts were coming on to me. You think I'd screw that up?"

"Didn't it… bother you that it wasn't real?"

He scoffs, "Tch, you think I care? I've been alive long enough to know nobody actually likes me." Beetlejuice pauses and opens his eyes. "Wow, that's a depressing sentence, isn't it?"

It was, and it broke Lydia's heart a little. "Beej... I like you. For real." 

Everyone knew Lydia wasn't usually the touchy-feely type, but the mushy statement feels like it needs physical emphasis. She reaches towards Beetlejuice's hand but before she can touch it, the demon jerks it away, sitting up. He wags an angry finger at her, hair starting to glow red.

"Nonononono, you got your one free pass already! 'Fool me once' and all that crap. Just cause I know what you're doing doesn't mean it doesn't  _ piss me off. _ I've killed people for less than that, you know? This one time, I got summoned to Atlanta and this shmuck thought he'd pull one on the B-man. I was bored so I went along with it. The second he turned on me, BAM!" Beetlejuice punches the air in front of him. "Punched straight through his ribs and ripped out half a lung before his body hit the ground." He gives an evil grin. "Tasted surprisingly good. A couple of women walked by with their kids and saw the whole thing, so I had to take 'em out, too. Couldn't let word get back to the underground that I'd killed  _ even more  _ humans." He waves a hand non-committedly. "Besides, kids have the best organs; humans get so much less tender with age. I have an entire jar full of pickled baby brains somewhere."

Lydia takes a couple seconds to consider the horrifying mental image before storing it in the back of her mind for later use. She gives the demon her best disaffected-teenage stare. "Beej, we both know that didn't happen. You're not gonna make me scared of you, so stop trying."

Beetlejuice sucks in a breath like he's about to argue, but no words come out. Instead, he folds his arms and gets up off the bed to pace around the room, muttering angrily. Lydia can't make out the words; she's not sure he's even  _ trying _ to say real words. He might literally just be saying "grumble grumble grumble" for the sake of making noise.

After half a minute of what's basically an adult tantrum, she interrupts him. "Hey dummy, you done throwing your adult tantrum?" 

Beetlejuice gives her an exceptionally petulant look. Despite the fact that he was centuries-old (or so he claimed), the demon never seemed to grow up. He was like a perma-kid, but not in the cute kind of way. He was the kind of kid that gets sent to the principal's office for hiding dead frogs in the teacher's desk and biting the other students. It was why he and Lydia got along so well. At least… they  _ had _ gotten along.

"No, as a matter of fact, I am  _ not  _ done _. _ " Beetlejuice resumes grumbling but stops pacing, opting instead to sit down in the desk chair with as much force as possible.

_ Lydia feels like she owes him time to pace and grumble, so she lets him get on with it before eventually saying, "Look Beej, I don't like talking about this kind of stuff either, but I wouldn't have said sorry if I wasn't," she looks over to him kindly. It's not certain that any of this will get through to him, but Lydia still wants to try. "And I'm not trying to trick you, either. I wouldn't have gone through all that... feelings stuff with Delia and Dad if I didn't wanna spend time with you." _

Beetlejuice gives her a thoughtful look, hair fading back to a dull green. "That  _ does _ sound like a fate worse than death." He sighs. "Look, Lyds, I'm not sayin' I don't appreciate you standing up for me, cause I do, but I don't exactly deserve it. I was a pretty shit friend. I mean sure, you pretty much punched the button on my deep-seated terror of being abandoned and then literally stabbed me in the back, but I'm a fucking adult.” He sticks out his bottom lip and twists his knuckles next to his eyes like he's pretending to cry, saying sarcastically, “And I let a teenager hurt my  _ poor, widdle feewings _ ,"

_ “Wait, what?” she sounds surprised, “you’re saying that like I wasn’t a shit friend back!” Oh God, now they’re onto the topic of regrets and guilt is suddenly crawling up Lydia’s spine thinking about it. _

_ Lydia dismays that she’s opening up this much about her feelings, but in an equal amount, this is good. She’s never had someone to open up to this much; is this what it’s like to have a deep conversation? “I never gave it any thought at first, but let’s be honest: murder is a shitty thing to do to anyone, even if it is your friend who also happens to be an evil demon from Hell…” _

Beetlejuice shrugs. "I mean, really, who  _ hasn't  _ done a little murdering now and then?" Beetlejuice snaps his fingers, as though just remembering something. "Oh yeah! That reminds me; I found the assholes who took your bike." 

The ominous segue immediately makes Lydia concerned that she's going to have the untimely death of two classmates on her conscience for the rest of her life. 

Beetlejuice continues nonchalantly, "I mean, obviously you already knew that, since I brought the bike back. But check it," he rolls back his coat sleeves, showing several dark red stains on the striped shirt underneath. "One of the little fuckers tried to jump me."    
Beetlejuice raises his hands to forestall the impending accusation evident in Lydia's expression. "Hey, he's still alive! Before you get mad at me, I actually did listen to you and didn't beat 'em to a pulp like they deserved, which took a  _ lot _ of self-control by the way." Beetlejuice literally pats himself on the back before continuing, "You really didn't give me much to go on but luckily I know someone who works for the 'Overworld Databank;' they can get info on literally anything happening in the surface world. You think the NSA is bad? These people know the freaky porn you watch  _ and _ exactly who or what you were thinking about while you jerked off to it." 

Lydia gives the demon an extremely grossed out look. He nods enthusiastically. "Yeah, I know right?! Total invasion of privacy. But useful! Got 'em to look up every kid named 'Mike' in town and they gave me the address for the dickwad on the football team at your school. So I showed up and had some real fun with the guy; snakes and gore and jumpscares, you know the drill." Beetlejuice gives a self-satisfied evil smirk. "No physical harm but he's definitely not gonna bother you again, that's for sure.    
“He didn't have the bike, though, so I politely asked him where his friend was and dude gave him up fuckin'  _ immediately _ . Seriously, it was impressive how fast this guy turned on him. I'm not exactly Mr. Loyalty but if I was being threatened I'd at least put up a fight just to spite the asshole. All I did was make one of the anime body pillows on this nerd's bed start crying blood and chase him around a little before he told me where to find his pal. Oh, and you'll never guess what he's called." Beetlejuice pauses for a moment as though expecting Lydia to try guessing anyway, but moves on when she doesn't reply. "Fudd. Dugbert." He lets out a bark of laughter and gives his thigh a loud slap. "That's gotta be one of the dumbest names I've ever heard, and I've heard some real stinkers over the years." He counts on his fingers as he lists them off. "Mary McPants, Randy Potato, Lord Chadwick of New Dicksburg, Benedict Cumberbatch, Chris P. Bacon-"    
Beetlejuice stops and waves his hand impatiently. "Anyway, I show up to Fuckwad #2's place and see the bike outside. Again,  _ very  _ tempted to end this man's whole career, but I could practically hear the annoying angel of mercy over here," he gestures toward Lydia, "stage-whispering in my ear,  _ 'Nooo, don't kill them, he's just a confused teenage boy overwhelmed by fluctuating hormones and the insecurities of bodily change; whose aggressive behavior is the predictable consequence of living in a society where kindness is seen as weakness in men.' _ "    
Beetlejuice shakes his head. "Seriously, Lyds, you're gonna need to put a  _ lot _ of centipedes in a  _ lot _ of hair before I think you're cool again."

"It was a  _ millipede _ ; centipedes are really poisonous," Lydia says.

Beetlejuice throws his hands in the air. "See what I'm talking about?! Totally soft! The Maitlands have completely ruined you. You used to be a truculent malcontent; my partner in crime! Why'd you have to go and get all well-adjusted and stuff?"    
Apparently the question is rhetorical because Beetlejuice continues without giving Lydia a chance to answer, "So anyways, I pop up in this little pissant's room. He's lying in bed watching something on his phone. I couldn't hear it cause he was wearing headphones but he's a teenage boy so I can only assume it was porn. If you're super curious, I can go back to the Overworld Databank and find out."

Lydia vigorously shakes her head. "Ew, ew, ew, gross. I do  _ not  _ need or want to know."

Beetlejuice shrugs. "That's probably for the best. I kind of already cached in my only favor there and security told me explicitly to never come back. 

“So anyways, back to the story. The twerp is watching porn,  _ allegedly, _ with headphones on and doesn't notice me at first. I figure I'll begin the reign of terror by introducing myself up close and personal. I get my face this close to his before he notices." Beetlejuice holds his hands about six inches apart. "In hindsight, I should've seen the punch coming. That whole 'fight or flight' thing breathers do took over and he socked me right here."    
The demon points to his left eyebrow, which seems to be completely healed from where it had been split and leaking a viscous black fluid the last time Lydia had seen it. The only sign Beetlejuice was ever injured are some telltale dark smudges on his face where he wiped away the… _ demon blood?  _ Is it even called "blood?"   
He continues, "Now, I'll admit I probably shouldn't have punched him back, seeing as I agreed not to hurt anyone or whatever, but it was an uncontrollable reflex, okay? Besides, I only got him in the nose one time; yeah, it bled a little, but it's not like it was hard enough to send fragments of bone into his brain, which I have personally witnessed on multiple occasions and let me tell you,  _ not pretty _ .    
“So anyways, that's stain number one." He wiggles his right arm where blood has soaked into the cuff of his undershirt. "Stain number two is from when he tried to bite me like some kind of feral raccoon and bit his own stupid feral-raccoon tongue." The demon holds up his left arm, which has a few more red spots halfway up the sleeve.    
"Anyways," he continues, "at that point I made the decision to execute a strategic retreat. But don't worry, I came back later when he was asleep again and used his phone to pick fights with a bunch of anti-vax moms on social media and signed him up for the Scientology newsletter. He's gonna be feeling that heat for a  _ looong _ time."

_ Lydia can’t do much more than sit, dumbstruck, as Beetlejuice rambles on about his conquest against two teenagers. She does, admittedly, breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that he hadn’t actually killed either of them, and in the same minute, gives him a sorry look to hear he was punched. “Okay... wow. Thanks, Beej,” she exclaims as quietly as she can given how late it is, and smiles wide. _

He waves his hand dismissively. "No need to thank me, it's just what we anti-heroes do."

_ "I guess," she shrugs, laughing a little. As gross as it is, Lydia finds herself remembering that cursed dream Beetlejuice had recounted when he'd re-emerged in her bedroom and comes up with a way to steer the conversation away from feelings and towards something that would more likely keep him around for longer. "Hey, y'know what? I bet we could hook you up on a low-key date with the Maitlands like that dream of yours if we tried real hard," Lydia nudges the demon playfully. "Definitely less raunchy, though…" _

Beetlejuice raises his eyebrows. "Well, color me intrigued! I wouldn't have pegged you for the matchmaking type, 'Yente.'" He lets out a defeated sigh. "As much as I appreciate the help, kid, the 'S.S. Beetlelands' is dead in the water. That ship is scuttled; or did you forget the part where Barbara ghost-smacked me into your wall of angsty-teenage posters?"    
Beetlejuice shakes his head. "Nah, I'm happy just making Adam and Barb uncomfortable with the occasional unrequited sexual overture. Besides, isn't Adam just the  _ cutest  _ when he's all flustered? _ "  _ Beetlejuice holds up a hand. _ " _ No, don't answer that. Anyway, we're getting off topic; it's conflict-resolution time."

_ “Conflict-resolution time? What?” Lydia stares dumbly at her friend - she swears he moves way too fast for her to understand sometimes. “What do you wanna do that involves conflict-resolution?” _

The demon shrugs. "I don't know, that's just what they always have to do in soap operas to stop having troublesome plot-related dreams, and I've gotta stop teleporting places in my sleep." He gestures between the two of them. "Don't get me wrong; I'm loving this whole buddy-buddy friendship thing we've got cooking, but that's still a big problem."

Lydia frowns. "But you know it's just a dream, now. Can't you... I don't know, ignore it when you think I'm calling you?"

Beetlejuice shakes his head. "Doesn't work like that. If I hear my name, I have to appear. Dumb curse wasn't made to accommodate such an active imagination, apparently." 

_ Lydia listens on intently. “Really?” she asks. Curses are weird. “That sucks... you have any idea if there are sleep clinics in the Netherworld? The ones we have here help with dreams and stuff,” she offers. “Then again, they probably wouldn’t know what to do about the whole teleporting thing. We’ll work it out, I guess?” _

Beetlejuice nods thoughtfully and opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by a soft knock on Lydia’s bedroom door. Honestly, it was probably unrealistic to hope that no one else in the house would have heard them by now.    
For once, Beetlejuice doesn’t say anything, opting instead to give Lydia a chance to speak.    
Lydia gives him a nervous look before saying to the door “...Yeah?”

“Hey,” Barbara’s voice answers, softly, “Can I come in?”   
Beetlejuice frantically shakes his head at Lydia.    
“Um….” she says, trying to think of an excuse to make Barbara go away. “No, I’m not dressed. Totally naked.”    
Beetlejuice raises an eyebrow, clearly resisting the urge to make some kind of inappropriate joke.

After a moment of silence, Barbara answers, “...Lydia, I know he’s in there.”


End file.
